


Sweet Tooth

by fictionallemons



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Assumptions, Benthan, Cake, Drinking, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, No Smut, Pining, Rolled up Sleeves, Trapped, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 05:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19661074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionallemons/pseuds/fictionallemons
Summary: When Ethan and Benji get trapped in a shed at a wedding reception, secret desires are revealed.





	Sweet Tooth

The wedding had been perfect. It had threatened rain, but the sun had come out at the last minute, bathing everything is beautiful golden light. The vows had brought the audience, and the participants, both to laughter and to tears. The reception, intimate yet fun, had followed directly after in the private garden where the ceremony had taken place. It was nearing midnight and only now was the party breaking up.  
  
Ethan watched the guests slowly departing in groups of two and three from behind the drinks table where he'd been unofficially bartending all night. It was a little known fact that he'd bartended through much of college, only giving it up for good once he'd joined the IMF. Luther had appointed himself DJ, keeping the jams old-school and breaking into a sentimental slow song every now and then to keep the happy couple on their toes. Will, wearing ridiculous black sunglasses, had fancied himself the bouncer, making sure no one got in the small venue without ID and an invitation. "With two international agents getting married you can't be too careful," he'd said.  
  
Ethan's attention flicked from where a couple of analysts were filing out past Will's stern gaze and over to the table with the remains of the wedding cake. His eyes sought out the slim man in the dark blue suit, jacket shed long ago, his soft linen shirt rolled up to the elbows. He was helping himself to another slice of cake. It had been quite good. Vanilla with chocolate frosting. Ethan watched, unable not to, as Benji wrapped his mouth around a bite of cake, sliding the fork from between his lips, diving back in for another taste already. It was a bad idea, Ethan knew, but he couldn't stop himself from watching. Benji eating cake was up there on the all-time torture list. He was just so _into_ it. Benji ate cake like the world might end tomorrow. He ate it like he needed it as much as oxygen. He ate it like…like eating it was as good as sex. As if consuming cake was equivalent to a taste bud orgasm.  
  
It was fucking killing him.  
  
Ethan knew Benji wasn't doing it to torture him. He probably had no idea how sexy he looked, with his eyes closed behind his glasses, the better to taste without the interference of visual stimuli. But still, by the time Benji finished the cake and dabbed his mouth politely with a napkin. Ethan's palms were sweaty and his neck felt warm. He hadn't drunk more than half a beer all night, but suddenly he wanted something strong. Something to take the edge off. Too bad the guests had done an excellent job of depleting the stock.  
  
He remembered there was more alcohol in a storage shed on the other side of the property. It was time to clean up, anyway. He started dumping out the tubs of melting ice, then gathering empties, setting them inside the tubs.  
  
"Stop that, Ethan Hunt. We have a clean up crew scheduled in twenty minutes," Ilsa called from the dance floor. She was swaying with her arms around Jane. They wore matching ivory suits and their wedding rings winked in the soft glow of the fairy lights. Identical elated grins had been on their faces all night.  
  
Ethan smiled at the picture they made. He was happy for them. And only a tiny bit jealous that they'd managed to cut through all the bullshit that their jobs put them through and find some peace and happiness for themselves.  
  
Okay, a lot jealous.  
  
As ever, his eyes cut back to Benji. He sighed. It wasn't as if being friends was so terrible. He valued Benji's friendship tremendously. It was just that for so long he'd wanted more…and it was obvious that Benji wasn't interested. He'd never said exactly that, but Ethan had taken the hint when Benji had found ways to gently let Ethan down whenever he asked him for a drink, or dinner. Ethan had gotten the message and tried to get over it. But there was no getting over Benji Dunn.  
  
He gathered as many empties as he could carry. Less for the cleanup crew to do, and something for him to keep busy with. He headed for the storage shed, arms full.  
  
"Hey, Ethan, wait up." He heard Benji's voice behind him, and he slowed. He kind of wanted to be alone, but he'd never been able to ignore Benji. He turned, and saw Benji carrying another load. "I'll help you," Benji said, giving him a friendly smile.  
  
"Thanks." They walked together, the clink of empty bottles breaking up the silence of the still, dark garden.  
  
Ethan had helped set up earlier, so he knew the combination to small shed's lock and he opened it without trouble. "There's a recycle bin in here," he said, flicking on the dim overhead light.  
  
Benji followed him in, dumping the bottles into the bin. Ethan followed suit, and they moved toward the door. It was shut. That was weird. Ethan pushed on it, but it wouldn't open.  
  
"It's stuck."  
  
"What? The door won't open?" Benji said with disbelief. "Let me try."  
  
They spent three minutes trying to move the surprisingly sturdy shed door before they gave up. The hinges were on the outside, so they couldn't lever it open.  
  
"We could call Will, or Luther," Benji suggested. Ethan patted his pockets, but he'd left his phone on the bar. Benji sighed when he saw Ethan was phoneless. "I gave mine to Jane to take pictures with and she never gave it back."  
  
Ethan shrugged. "I guess we're stuck here until the cleanup crew arrives."  
  
The shed was full of boxes and gardening equipment, but there was room near the door to sit down, so they did, their backs to the door, their legs stretched out ahead of them. There wasn't much space. Ethan could feel the heat of Benji where their shoulders nearly brushed. He very definitely did not look at Benji's forearms, corded with lean muscle.  
  
Ethan recalled his original purpose for coming to the shed, and spotted the carton from the liquor store that held extra alcohol nearby. He leaned over and dragged it to them. He passed up the three bottles of red and the tequila and pulled out a bottle of bourbon.  
  
"Do you mind?" he asked, twisting off the top.  
  
"Be my guest."  
  
Ethan closed his eyes and took a swig, savoring the heat of the liquor as it hit his tongue and slid down his throat. When he opened his eyes again, Benji was looking at him strangely. "Want some?" He held the bottle out.  
  
"Why not?" Benji said quietly. He took the bottle from Ethan's hand, didn't bother to wipe the rim before taking a healthy swig. There was something intimate about knowing Benji had drunk from the same bottle; Ethan imagined he could taste a bit of Benji when he passed the bottle back and Ethan took another sip.  
  
He chastised himself mentally. How horrified would Benji be if he knew Ethan was still in…that he still wanted him, even after Benji had made it clear that it was never going to happen?  
  
"Beautiful wedding," he said to fill the silence.  
  
"Gorgeous. I think they were the two happiest brides I've ever seen," Benji said.  
  
"They are happy. They make each other happy," Ethan said. "They're lucky." He couldn't help it if she sounded a little bitter.  
  
Benji hummed in agreement. "Have you ever—er, I mean, since Julia's remarried and everything—did you ever think you might give it another go?"  
  
"What? Marriage?" Ethan was flabbergasted that Benji would ask.  
  
"Well, or just, a relationship. In general." Benji cleared his throat.  
  
Ethan took another sip of the bourbon, let it rest on his tongue before swallowing. He didn't really know how to answer.  
  
"Never mind," Benji said, when the silence had stretched on too long. "It's just hard, you know, with the lives we lead, to make anything work. But Ilsa and Jane seem to have it all figured out."  
  
"Have you ever felt like that?" Ethan asked before he could stop himself. "The way they feel about each other?"  
  
Benji stilled next to him. They were both looking ahead, not at each other. "Er, I think so," Benji said. "But I'm not sure it counts if the other person doesn't feel the same. I mean, isn't that what made tonight so special? Two people who found each other out of everyone in entire world, and they miraculously feel the same measure of love for the other?"  
  
Ethan bit his lip, trying to chase away his jealousy. Who had Benji loved that much? Why hadn't they loved him back? "I suppose. But whoever it was was an idiot if they didn't feel the same way, Benji."  
  
Benji laughed, a short, rueful sound. "He's not an idiot. Just way out of my league."  
  
Ethan's heart contracted at the tense. "So you still have feelings for him?" This was worse than the cake. This was real pain.  
  
"Oh!" Benji exclaimed, as if he'd said too much without realizing it. "Well." Maybe Benji realized this would be awkward for Ethan considering his past attempts at taking their friendship to a different level.  
  
"It's okay—you don't have to worry about me," Ethan said, though he was aware that his voice sounded rather mournful. "I just—I want you to be happy, Benji."  
  
The shed seemed to shrink, the dim overhead bulb giving everything a sort of tired look, the air musty with a note of yeast from the empty wine bottles they'd brought. The atmosphere was thick with awkwardness as neither of them said anything for a long time.  
  
"Can I ask you something, Ethan?" Benji asked, an eternity later.  
  
"Sure, Benji."  
  
"How long does it take to get over someone you never had in the first place?"  
  
Ethan felt a stab of hurt. So Benji didn't return Ethan's affections. He could deal with that. But he didn't have to rub it in. And if he answered honestly then Benji would know that he wasn't over him.  
  
"Benji, I—" He stopped. He didn't know how to go on.  
  
"Because I've been trying, Ethan. I've been trying to get over you, but it's—damn it, it's _impossible_. Especially when you say things like that—that you want me to be happy. But I don't think I'm going to be able to be happy until I'm not aching with all this useless love every minute of every day and—oh god, I'm such an idiot, and now you're going to hate me, and your friendship is the only thing that means anything and I've gone and ruined it and—"  
  
Ethan had grown increasingly desperate the longer Benji went on. Benji had been trying to get over _him_? Benji _loved_ him? Ethan's heart, which he'd been trying to keep bound under the expectation that Benji would never want him, suddenly felt like it might burst free of Ethan's chest. He had to stop Benji's self-flagellating flow of words and he could only think of one way to do it. He put his mouth to Benji's, stopping his words with a kiss.  
  
Benji jerked back almost immediately, breaking contact with a cry of surprise. "Ethan, what the hell?"  
  
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I should have asked. I just—you haven't ruined anything, Benji. I thought you knew."  
  
"Knew what?"  
  
"Knew that I had feelings for you."  
  
Benji opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no sound came out.  
  
"I thought you knew," he said again, "and you weren't interested. I've been trying to get over _you_."  
  
"How the bloody hell would I have known that?"  
  
"All those times I asked you out, you know, after the thing in Kashmir? You always said no."  
  
"Ask me out? You never—" Benji stopped, considered, then exploded in words again. "That was you asking me out? I thought you were worried about me, after the thing with Lane, and you were looking out for me, like a friend, but by then I didn't trust myself to be alone with you, Ethan. I thought I'd make a fool of myself and tell you how I felt and you'd have to let me down easily and that would have been insult added to injury and I couldn't put myself through it, so I just figured avoiding those situations was for the best. I had no idea that you were trying to—I mean, how was I supposed to know?"  
  
Ethan grimaced. "Maybe I was being a little too subtle. I guess I was scared to really put myself out there. I didn't want to mess up our friendship if you didn't feel the same way."  
  
"All this time we've—" Benji started.  
  
"—been idiots," Ethan finished.  
  
"Pretty much."  
  
They stared at each other, the incredulity draining from Benji's face to be replaced by something softer, something hopeful. Ethan's heart hammered like it was trying to break a rib from the inside. Clumsily, he found Benji's hand and pressed it between both of his. "Let me be unsubtle now."  
  
"Please."  
  
"Benji, I have been falling in love with you for years. You are already my best friend and my favorite person to work with and I guess I talked myself out of believing I could be lucky enough to have more with you. But I want it, Benji, I want it so badly."  
  
"So, just to be clear, what do mean by 'more?'" Benji asked, his voice low.  
  
"I mean this," Ethan said, and then he pressed a quick, close-mouthed kiss to Benji's lips. "And this." He pressed another to the side of Benji's neck. "And this," and he raised his mouth and took Benji's earlobe between his teeth and bit down gently. He felt Benji quiver. He heard Benji moan. He smiled.  
  
"So, just to be clear," Ethan echoed, "is that something you're open to?"  
  
"Ethan, love, I'm wide open. It might take me a bit to realize that this isn't a dream, but yes. Yes to more. Yes to everything."  
  
And then Benji kissed him, but it was no longer soft, no longer close-mouthed. It was hard, and hot, and wet. Ethan could taste the bourbon they'd drunk, and beneath that he could taste the cake Benji had devoured, and beneath that he could taste Benji, sweet and savory, light and dark, clever and brilliant and funny and sexy.  
  
Benji's hands were on Ethan's lapels, drawing him closer. Ethan's hands found Benji's waist. Benji kissed like he meant it; Ethan felt like that slice of cake, about to be consumed. He craved it. He wanted to be obliterated by Benji's kisses, to be used up and wrung out and given over to him entirely.  
  
But the door behind them suddenly gave way, and they tumbled backward, tangled in each other, the fresh night air rushing around them as they stared up into the eyes of two very confused young women in matching black t-shirts with the name of a cleaning service embroidered on them.  
  
"Uh, thanks," Benji said, getting to his feet, pulling Ethan up in one swift move. "We got trapped in there. Somehow."  
  
"No problem," one of the women said, sharing a glance and a smile with her coworker. "Have a good night."  
  
"No really, the door was stuck and—"  
  
"Let it go," Ethan murmured. "They'll think what they want to, anyway."  
  
"Well, it's a hazard. Someone should look at the lock," Benji said stubbornly, as Ethan led him back down the path toward the reception.  
  
When they got there, Ilsa and Jane were still slow dancing on the otherwise empty dance floor. Luther was asleep over his iPod. Will was directing more black-shirt-clad workers to start breaking down the tables and chairs.  
  
Ethan jogged over to the cake, where a man was putting the leftovers in a box, presumably for the brides to take home.  
  
"Can you wrap up a slice of that for me?" he asked. The man nodded and complied. Benji caught up, furrowed his brow.  
  
"Do you have a sweet tooth, Ethan?"  
  
"No." Ethan smiled. "But you do."


End file.
